Process of Elimination
by La Fuego
Summary: A collection of related drabbles/ficlets wherein you have an insecure Oshitari and an Atobe shooting down some of the more popular Atobe/ ? ? pairings.


**Title:** Process of Elimination  
**Genre:** Romance, Fluff  
**Fandom: **Prince of Tennis  
**Pairing:** Oshitari/Atobe - various implied _possible_ pairings for Atobe  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimers:** I do not own these boys! Konomi-sensei has first dibs on whatever he wants them to do with/to each other (which, sadly, does not include them getting it on). They did not make me richer, so don't sue.  
**Summary: **A collection of related drabbles/ficlets wherein you have an insecure Oshitari and an Atobe shooting down some of the more popular Atobe+?? pairings.  
**Author's Notes: **Written for **pinksnow **to whom we (my muse and I) owe a HUGE debt of gratitude. Thank you for being the best beta reader a fic writer could have. And thank you for being one of the best friends a girl could have. Also written for **darkmage009** because she just plain wanted more OshiAto from me (though it boggles the mind why she'd want it from _me_).

* * *

**Process of Elimination**

_**Eclipse**_

It's not a well-known fact that Tezuka and I go back a long way – we've been competing against each other in Primary level tournaments ever since we were old enough to grip a racket properly.

When Yuushi stumbled upon this little trivia, he commented about how he's surprised that the stolid Seigaku team captain and I didn't end up together. I slyly asked him if the fact that Tezuka and I had a "history" threatened him. His disdainful snort was a clear answer in the negative, but the burning intensity in his gaze gave away his insecurity.

I gave Yuushi my most reassuring smile. "Tezuka and I, we are as the sun and moon; we cannot share the same sky unless it is to eclipse the other."

_**Flavor**_

It is on rainy days like these that I am drawn to think of days that have passed. On this particular rainy day, my mind is drawn to the memories of silky soft strawberry blond hair, of lips perpetually tinged with the taste of whipped cream, of sleepy amber eyes that once made me see the impossible simplicity of what was then a complex reality.

We were young. Brash. We thought that time would stand still for us. We thought that _'change'_ was something that applied to everything – everything but our feelings.

We were idiots.

We changed. What we felt changed. But I'm glad that it happened. I'm glad that WE happened. Because on rainy days like these, I have something to fondly look back on.

"Strawberries and cream," a smooth, deep baritone interrupted my thoughts.

"Huh?" I ask the owner of the pair of arms currently wrapping themselves around me.

"You were thinking of strawberries and cream," he answers, voice mildly accusing.

I hum contentedly in the circle of his warmth. "I was just remembering how that used to be my favorite flavor back in middle school. But my tastes have changed… so have his. I heard that he's happy with the apple bubblegum that he's had for the past 3 years."

I feel, more than hear, the chuckle from his chest. "And you?"

I give a naughty little laugh before reaching around him to squeeze his buns, "I'll never grow tired of blueberry muffins."

_**Coffee Shop**_

I met Sanada quite by accident when I was on my way to the café to meet with Yuushi. I knew I was an hour early for our meeting, so I thought nothing of it when I invited Sanada for a cup of coffee while I waited for Yuushi.

An hour later, Yuushi came in and Sanada politely bade us goodbye. I watched the latter walk away with a faint smile on my lips. The man still walked as though he had an entire tennis team watching his every move.

I turned back to my companion only to find him looking at me with a question in his eyes.

"No," I answered, shaking my head at him.

At my answer, he raised a silent, disbelieving brow at me.

"Good God, no!" I repeated emphatically with an incredulous laugh. "Could you imagine what Yukimura would do to me if I even dared to _think_ about what you're implying?" I suppressed a shudder at the thought.

Only then did I finally get a smile of greeting with genuine warmth from my date.

_**Mind Reading**_

We were both comfortably sprawled in front of the TV, intently watching the Roland Garros(1) – or at least, _I_ was watching the match; Yuushi's eyes were trained on that one specific player instead of the match itself. I doubted he even knew what the score was anymore.

"Game and match won by Ryoma Echizen!" The sports announcer excitedly proclaimed. Well, that's two matches down. The five-set matches in the French open are real killers, and I was sure Echizen's up for it… but I wasn't so sure about my fellow spectator. I glanced over to my right to see Yuushi all tense, with his hands curled into tight fists.

Echizen Ryoma turned out to be a magnificent young man. And standing on those international tennis courts, he looked to be a creature that was glorious beyond words. I didn't need to ask what was bothering Yuushi.

I reached over to touch his hand, "Yuushi, if I wanted to have a child, I'd father one—not go into a relationship with one."

_**Enough**_

"What about Fuji Syuusuke?" Yuushi suddenly asked.

"What about him?" I asked right back. He frowned at me because he knew that I knew exactly what he was asking.

I tried to picture it in my head and grimaced. "No," I answered resolutely. "One tennis _tensai_ is more than enough for me."

_**Contentment**_

Sated and at ease in the warm circle of his embrace, I mulled over his question in my head. As we were on our way home from the office the day before, Yuushi pointed out that I could have anybody I wanted – anyone at all. If that was the case, what was I doing with somebody like him?

I always knew that Yuushi had a bit of a jealous streak. I also knew that he saw potential rivals in everybody who's had even the littlest bit of history with me: Tezuka, Tachibana, Sanada, Fuji, Echizen, Kamio, Jirou… the rest of the former Hyotei Gakuen tennis team regulars… But even though it was there, simmering just beneath the surface, he's never said anything about it before.

Oh, he'd throw out random comments and questions here and there, but always, ALWAYS coated with a layer of nonchalance—as though he really didn't care one way or the other if I said that yes, I had a thing for this other person. His pride would never let him show me his insecurities. And it is in consideration of that same pride that I pretend not to see.

But that day, he threw that pride out of the window and asked me that question that burned within him every single day: "WHY? Out of all the possibles out there, why me? Why not them?" I was so surprised by the question that I didn't answer him at all. I left the question hanging in the air, even though I knew that my lack of answer only fed Yuushi's insecurity.

But tonight, I was ready to give him my answer. Tonight, surrounded by the comfortable glow of contentment, I knew why it had to be him.

The sound of rustling silk sheets alerted him to my desire to shift in his embrace. He loosened his hold around me and allowed me to turn around to face him. Of course, I made sure that I brushed against the entire length of his side as I turned. I took in his perplexed eyes, his disheveled dark hair, and his lips that were still kind of swollen from my bruising kisses.

I laid a hand to the side of his face and said, "Because they weren't you."

Owari  
La Fuego  
07/25/2008

(1) Roland Garros - a.k.a. The French Open. One of the four Tennis Grand Slam titles.


End file.
